


Happy Trails

by Merrov



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, First Time, M/M, Multi, Romance, dog mushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-01
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrov/pseuds/Merrov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Personally I can’t decide if everyone here is stupid or just plain crazy. You’re riding a sled pulled by crazy huskies almost a thousand miles at subzero temperatures with mediocre shelter and so many trail hazards I can’t even begin to list them.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Trails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gottalovev](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/gifts), [Bluespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluespirit/gifts), [danceswithgary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Little bit of life ~ a ‘Mile marker thirty-six’ ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2396) by Bluespirit. 



> Beautiful cover art by Danceswithgary!  
> Beta by Mckaysmirth. Any remaining mistakes are mine. This was first inspired by a Mile Marker 36 snippet by Bluespirit_star written over a year ago. At the time, I thought, ‘now that would be a fun fic to write.’ The muse percolated on it for ages before I went on to other things. For SGA Santa this year, I was assigned a pitch hit and thought, ‘okay, what am I going to write about?’ The next day, I had a conversation with a friend about the Yukon Quest. Having moved out of Alaska a few months ago (and I suppose being a little homesick for a few things, like dog mushing and hippie communities) I kept thinking about the upcoming racing season. Then I remembered the Mile Marker 36 story and my muse went ‘YES. That.’ After I got half way through the race I was contacted by the mods for SGA Santa and told that the person I was pitch hitting for had turned in their story, so mine wasn’t technically needed. That was great because I only had four days to write it and I already knew I would need more time. So this is partially for Gottalovev for SGA Santa and partially for Bluespirit_star for originally giving me the idea and partially for Danceswithgary for making beautiful cover art for this. The rest of it was for me to remember the races and Fairbanks and the various hippie dog mushing communities around the area.

It was all because Rodney owed Dr. Lorne a favor from way back when they were both in vet school. Rodney had forgotten about it completely, which he now knew was a mistake. If he’d remembered it, he’d have called Lorne up years ago and done something easy for him; probably from the comfort of his own home with his laptop. Rodney had forgotten, however, which is why he now found himself standing outside in Whitehorse, in the snow, freezing his ass off as he waited for the race check in to begin.

Rodney remembered how excited Lorne had sounded over the phone. He’d called Rodney to tell him that he’d gotten the head veterinarian position for this year’s Yukon Quest. In the next breath, he’d reminded Rodney about the favor and told him he wanted Rodney to come as one of the other veterinarians. Rodney had initially backpedaled. He didn’t know shit about dog mushing.

“C’mon, Rodney, it’ll be fine. You don’t have to know anything about the sport. All you have to know is medicine, and you did graduate at the top of the class.”

Rodney had grudgingly agreed that that was true. Lorne emailed him all the travel information and Rodney grumbled all the way to the stores to stock up on his winter gear. Leaving his associate, Dr. Zelenka, in charge of the clinic, Rodney begrudgingly boarded the plane to Whitehorse a few weeks later.

Now he was here, and he was freezing. Dreams of steaming mugs of coffee and a warm fireplace danced through is head as Rodney looked around the staging area bleakly. There were dogs tied up to trucks everywhere, and crazy people who called themselves mushers in winter gear taking care of the dogs, or checking their sleds, or talking to each other. Rodney couldn’t help but feel out of place.

The crunch of boots on snow heralded someone’s approach and Rodney turned to find a bundled up guy coming up behind him. The guy was dressed from head to toe in black and grey and the only thing Rodney could really make out about him was that his eyes were hazel. “Hey,” the guy greeted. He held out a plastic mug that had obviously come from the top of the thermos he was holding. “You look like you could use some coffee.”

Rodney was pretty quick to snatch the mug; he held it still while the guy poured coffee from the thermos. “Maybe you’re smarter than you look,” Rodney told him before taking a drink. It was nice and hot and black, just like Rodney had been fantasizing about.

“You’re welcome,” the guy chuckled. “I’m John Sheppard.”

“Dr. Rodney McKay,” Rodney answered, too busy drinking more coffee to bother shaking Sheppard’s hand.

Sheppard refilled the mug before he spoke again. “You’re one of the vets, I take it. We just got here, so it’ll be a bit before we bring the dogs in for their checkups.”

Rodney grunted, finally looking back at Sheppard. “Lorne hasn’t come to find me yet, so we’re probably just getting started. Have you done this before?”

“Yeah, I ran last year,” Sheppard confirmed, “had to scratch though. I’m hoping to actually finish this year.”

“Not win?” Rodney challenged, curious.

Sheppard laughed, “With Lance running? Nah, I’m in it for the fun, mostly.”

Rodney thought quickly and finally came up with Lance Mackey, who had won a few times now and had to be the craziest of the bunch. “Oh is he here?” Rodney asked vaguely.

Sheppard stared at him, then chuckled. “You’re not a mushing enthusiast, are you?”

“No,” Rodney answered, drawing himself up a little. “I owed Lorne a favor. Winter sports, well, sports in general, don’t really interest me at all. Personally I can’t decide if everyone here is stupid or just plain crazy. You’re riding a sled pulled by crazy huskies almost a thousand miles at subzero temperatures with mediocre shelter and so many trail hazards I can’t even begin to list them. A few years ago people actually had to be medi-vaced off Eagle Summit!”

Sheppard’s eyes were crinkled at the corners in a smile. “Yeah, but it’s peaceful; beautiful scenery and time with just you and your dogs, together as a team.”

Rodney stared at Sheppard for a moment before shaking his head. “Crazy,” he muttered. He shoved the empty mug into Sheppard’s gloved hand before turning and heading toward the vet building.

“See you around, doc,” Sheppard called after him.

*Y*Q*

Rodney forgot all about Sheppard as the vet check started. It didn’t take long for him to get in the routine of examining the dogs. Each musher started out with fourteen dogs. Each dog had to be checked and the handler or musher lifted a dog at a time onto the exam table. Rodney checked heart and lung sounds, took temperatures, listed dogs for random urine tests, checked eyes and ears and reflexes and feet, squished bellies, scanned for microchips, nodded, and took notes while the handler or musher got a new dog. Vet assistants scurried around, helping to bring dogs in, clean tables, take notes as the vets dictated them, and picked up kidney pans to go get the urine samples needed. It was a lot of activity and Rodney found himself flagging halfway through it.

“Who’s next?” Rodney asked as he took a moment to grab a fresh cup of coffee.

“I am,” a woman answered. Rodney turned to find her smirking at him. Her blonde hair was tied back in a no nonsense pony tail which swayed a little as the dog she had on a leash paced restlessly. “Laura Cadman. I’m John Sheppard’s handler.”

“Sheppard,” Rodney echoed, remembering the guy who’d shared his coffee earlier that day. “Fine. Who’s this?” He gestured at the grey and white husky. Its left ear flopped over every time it turned to pace back the way it had just come.

Cadman grabbed the dog’s collar, slid her other arm under its belly, and lifted it onto the table. It was a female, Rodney noted. “This is Jumper; one of the leaders.”

Rodney nodded absently and picked up the chip scanner. Jumper turned to look at him as he ran the scanner over her head and back. Her eyes were bright and happy looking and she was very relaxed; obviously well socialized. The scanner beeped and Rodney handed it to the hovering assistant, who wrote down the number in Sheppard’s book.

The assistant and Cadman chatted as Rodney did his exam. Once he was finished with Jumper, Cadman took her away and brought in the next dog. As Rodney started his routine over again, he couldn’t help but wonder if Cadman and Sheppard were together. There were enough racers here whose husbands or wives were their handlers that it certainly wasn’t that improbable. Cadman was pretty enough, though Rodney personally found her a little annoying. Then again, he had no idea what Sheppard was like or what he looked like under all that padding. Just because he had nice eyes and coffee didn’t mean he wasn’t a nasty bit of work with pockmarked skin.

“Wraith, Jumper, Daedalus, Athos, Lantia, Ford, Prometheus-”

“Promo,” Cadman corrected.

Rodney shot her a look. “Where does Sheppard get these names?”

Cadman just shrugged. “He’s got a good imagination,” she chuckled.

*Y*Q*

After the vet check was completed, Rodney got roped in to helping pack the equipment. He got to pause long enough to watch a few of the mushers take off, but he wasn’t fond of the fanfare and crowds, so he left the start area before it was Sheppard’s turn.

“A truck?” Rodney stared at Lorne incredulously. “We’re taking this truck a hundred miles to Braeburn?”

“It’ll get us there, Rodney,” Evan assured him. “Come on, hop in. Everything’s loaded and we’re set to go.” Rodney still hesitated, so Evan waved a thermos at him. “Coffee and scones,” he tempted with raised eyebrows.

Rodney grumbled some more, but climbed into the passenger seat and grabbed the thermos. “If this truck breaks down, I’m eating you if we’re starving.”

The drive really wasn’t too bad, Rodney was forced to admit. He and Evan met up with a vet assistant and another veterinarian and it didn’t take too long to set up the vet check area. They were in another building, Rodney was relieved to discover; he’d heard that at some point they were going to be in a wall tent.

Eight or nine hours after the first few mushers left Whitehorse, they began to trickle into Braeburn. Almost immediately, Rodney and the other vets were busy; besides the start check, the look over at Braeburn was the most involved of the race. As he looked over the dogs, Rodney overheard the mushers chatting about the trail. Wind had whipped up on some of the hill tops, apparently, leaving less than the desired amount of snow, and there was talk of overflow from some water source that Rodney missed the name of. Inexplicably, he thought of Sheppard and wondered how he was doing out there.

At fourteen dogs per team, it was a lot of work, but Rodney was surprised how quickly it seemed to go by this time. He didn’t manage to see Sheppard before heading off to Carmacks with Evan, but Rodney wasn’t too worried, since he’d heard that Sheppard had checked in.

*Y*Q*

“McKay, got a minute?” Sheppard’s voice pulled Rodney out of the notes he was double checking for the team he’d just seen. Sheppard looked pissed under his hat and balaclava. He’d obviously just gotten into Carmacks as he was still frosty and wind burned looking. “Need you to look at Promo.”

“What’s wrong with Promo?” Rodney asked, trying to remember which dog that was. He handed the record book he was holding off to an assistant and followed Sheppard out of the tent. Sheppard pulled a headlamp out of his pocket and put it on, the light slicing through the darkness ahead of them. Dog eyes shown iridescent as the light bobbed along with Sheppard’s steps.

Sheppard’s team was bedded down in a camp area. Each of them was curled tiredly into their straw beds, but they all looked up when Sheppard and Rodney approached. All except for a smaller black and white husky near the end. The dog kept his head down, curled tightly with his nose tucked under his tail. His eyes followed Sheppard’s every move, but that was it. Sheppard crouched down next to the dog and pulled one of his hind legs out of the curl. Promo whimpered but didn’t try to pull his foot away.

“I think he sprained it. There was quite a bit of jumbled ice and we tried to avoid it as much as possible, but I think he stepped in a hole or something.” Sheppard sounded tired as Rodney knelt down in the snow and gently took the leg from him. John moved around to pet Promo’s head as Rodney did a quick exam.

The lower leg and foot were definitely tender, Rodney noted, but he wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong in the near darkness. Sheppard kept his eyes on what Rodney was doing, so he had the light from the headlamp, but it wasn’t nearly enough. “Alright,” Rodney sighed as he sat back. “You have to do your vet check anyway. Let’s take Promo in first and I’ll get a better look at him.”

Sheppard nodded and unclipped Promo from his line. He snapped a lead onto the dog’s collar and Promo hesitantly got to his feet and followed Sheppard toward the vet cabin at a limping walk. Rodney shook his head as he followed them. No matter what was wrong with Promo, Sheppard would be dropping the dog here. It would take time for Promo to heal, and he certainly couldn’t continue the race with his injury.

In the better light and heat of the cabin, Rodney pulled his hat and coat off as Sheppard lifted Promo onto one of the tables. With his owner at his head, Promo stayed still while Rodney performed a closer examination of his hind leg. One of his toes seemed to be bent at a strange angle and Rodney gingerly manipulated his foot, feeling for injuries or breaks. When he got to the funny toe, Promo squeaked and turned to glare at Rodney.

“Well?” Sheppard asked as he petted Promo’s head, soothing him.

“I can’t be sure without x-ray, but I’d say his toe is broken,” Rodney replied. “You’re probably right and he stepped on the ice wrong.”

“Shit,” Sheppard reached up and pulled his hat and balaclava off, dropping them onto the table before running his hand through his crazy black hair. Rodney couldn’t help but stare. This was the first time he’d seen Sheppard’s whole face, and that hair… was impressive. Somehow Rodney was surprised to find someone that hot in a sport like this. Most guys who were that attractive were too worried about disfiguring frostbite. “Okay,” Sheppard continued, looking at Promo. “Sorry, buddy, but this is the end of the run for you. At least you get a flight to Fairbanks.” He looked up at Rodney and caught him staring, but he merely raised an eyebrow at him. “Can you wrap his foot for now? I’ll get him fed with the rest of the team and then Cadman can pick him up after that.”

“Cadman?” Rodney echoed, revising his assumption that the blond woman and Sheppard were together. If they were, he certainly wouldn’t be calling her by her last name. “Yes, yes I can do that. You’ll have to put a booty over that foot to keep the wrap dry.” Rodney finally pulled his gaze away from Sheppard and turned to grab some vet wrap and gauze padding.

He also picked up a bottle of Tramadol. “Here,” he said, pulling out two tablets and quickly halving one. He handed one and a half tablets to Sheppard and dropped the other half back in the bottle. “I know they’re not supposed to have them on the race, but since Promo’s being dropped, he can have some pain killers. I’ll make a note in his chart. Give them to him with his meal.”

Sheppard held Promo while Rodney quickly wrapped the foot. Once they were done, Promo gave Rodney another accusing glare before Sheppard helped him down off the table. “Thanks, Doc,” Sheppard sighed.

Rodney nodded, seeing the disappointment on the other man’s face. “We need to get your other dogs checked out.”

“Yeah, I’ll get him settled and bring in another one. The others all did great, even with the rough trail.” He said the last has he led Promo away towards the door.

“Oh, Sheppard,” Rodney called after him. Sheppard paused and turned to look at him. “Bring your record book back with you so I can put Promo’s notes in it. I’ll get his drop form together.”

Sheppard nodded and then he was out the door.

After the check on Sheppard’s team was done, Rodney got to take a break as one of the other vets came in to take over. He went to find his cabin and found that someone had kindly lit a fire in the woodstove already. He poked at it listlessly before putting some water on top of the stove to boil. Knowing the kettle would take a while to heat, Rodney looked around, silently cursed the lack of internet, put his parka back on and went back out into the cold. He didn’t have a destination in mind, but he found himself wandering the staging area until he came to the place Sheppard’s team was bedded down.

John was stirring something foul smelling over a single burner. “Hey, doc,” he greeted as Rodney got close.

“What is _that?_ ” Rodney asked, indicating the pot, who’s contents were happily bubbling.

“Dog food,” Sheppard answered. “Frozen meat, energy pack, kibble, and water, among other things.”

“Smells awful,” Rodney commented, though he drifted closer anyway.

“Yeah, but the dogs love it,” Sheppard replied. He pulled the big pot off the camp burner and set it in the snow to cool a little. “So are you regretting coming here yet?”

“Hm? Oh,” Rodney shrugged. “The lack of internet is getting to me, as is the cold. I will admit, it’s kind of fun to do the vet work here though.”

“I’m glad you were around to look at Promo. Not that I have a problem with any of the vets, but…” Sheppard shrugged, not looking up. “I like you.”

“You like me?” Rodney asked, surprised. “You’ve only talked to me a couple times.”

“I know, but you’re no nonsense and straight to the point. You say exactly what you mean, and I appreciate that.” He stirred the cooling dog food as he talked. In a line a ways behind them, all the dogs looked very interested in what he was doing. “I don’t like it when people try to sugar coat things or pretend to be nice. There’s nothing phony about you.”

“Oh, well. Thank you?” Rodney asked, unsure.

Sheppard looked up at him and smiled. He was wearing his hat again, but he didn’t have the balaclava on, so Rodney could see his face. “You’re welcome. People don’t compliment you much, do they?”

Rodney shook his head. “They say it inflates my ego too much.”

Sheppard hummed, got up, and grabbed dog bowls. The dogs all stood up excitedly as their master began ladling out soup. It didn’t take him long to pass out the food, though Sheppard took time with each dog, petting them a little and talking to them as they started eating.

Rodney watched silently, then remembered the kettle he’d put on his stove. “Oh, I should go, I probably have water boiling over.”

“Sure,” Sheppard said. “See you around, McKay.”

“You can call me Rodney, you know, if you want,” Rodney impulsively said, looking up at Sheppard shyly.

The other man looked back, holding Rodney’s gaze for a moment before nodding. “Rodney,” he repeated. “Call me John then. Everybody says you only ever refer to me as Sheppard.”

“Okay,” Rodney agreed, bobbing his head and taking a step back. He wondered why anyone had thought to mention that, or was Sheppard asking about him? “See you… John.”

Rodney felt John’s gaze on his back all the way across the staging area.

*Y*Q*

Rodney didn’t see John at all at the Pelly Crossing checkpoint, which he was a little bummed about. It was two hundred miles from Pelly to Dawson, the half way point of the race. All the mushers had a thirty six hour layover in Dawson, so Rodney was sure he’d see John then, but he still worried. Between Pelly and Dawson was the climb out of Pelly Valley and then it was through the Black Hills with their overflow areas and sometimes nasty conditions. Rodney wasn’t really sure yet just why he was worried about John Sheppard when he hadn’t taken the time to really learn a single other musher’s name, but he couldn’t seem to help it. There was just something about John that kept his attention.

John was solidly in the middle of the pack when the spotters outside of Dawson radioed in his approach. Of the thirteen dogs Sheppard had with him when Rodney watched him leave Carmacks, he came into Dawson with twelve. Something also seemed to be wrong with John’s sled, Rodney noticed as he hovered nearby as John checked in with the race marshal.

“What happened?” Rodney heard Cadman ask as she jogged up to show John’s lead dog the way to the dog truck.

“Narrow ass piece of trail,” John replied, sounding exhausted. “I wasn’t far away from here when I slid around the damn corner and clipped a tree.

When Rodney got closer he could see that the bowed front of the sled looked a little crunched on one side. “What do you do for that?” he asked.

John turned when he heard Rodney’s voice, and even behind his winter gear and the fine layer of frost, Rodney saw his eyes light up and his eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. “Hey, Rodney. I missed you at Pelly.”

Something in Rodney’s stomach fluttered at the knowledge that John had looked for him. “Oh, I hope you weren’t looking for me because you had a dog problem.”

“Nah,” Sheppard chuckled, “everyone’s done great. Well, except for Ford. I dropped him at the Scroggie Creek dog drop. He just didn’t seem right. He wasn’t having fun like the others all are. So he’s on the way to Fairbanks. My buddy Ronon’s there; he’s picking up any dogs I drop and taking care of them for me.”

Rodney nodded, “good to have friends, but what about your sled?”

They stopped and Rodney looked up to find John’s dog truck in front of them. PEGASUS KENNELS was emblazoned across the back of the dog boxes and on the door of the truck. Rodney’s question was overlooked again in the small flurry of activity that followed as John and Cadman got the dogs out of their harnesses and chained up on the truck’s drop chains. Everyone got warm soup water and straw before John finally turned back to his busted sled.

“It actually doesn’t look too bad,” he observed, and Rodney heard the relief in his voice. “Cadman, the plastic around the bow was a damn good idea.”

“Not bad?” Rodney asked, still confused.

“Yeah,” John answered. “The plastics broken, but it looks like the wood’s intact, amazingly. All I have to do is strip the plastic off. Then I’ll check the runners and see what kind of shape they’re in.”

Rodney lingered a little longer, watching Cadman and John pull things out of the sled bag and go to work on the frame. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while,” he finally said.

John looked up. “Hey, after I’m done with everything I gotta do, I’m gonna go have a sit down meal before I crash. Wanna join me?”

Rodney heard Cadman cough, but she didn’t look up at them. Rodney found himself nodding before he really thought about it. “Sure.”

“Great. I’ll come find you after I’m done. We’ll do the vet check and then head out.” Sheppard gave him another crinkly-eyed smile before turning back to his sled.

Cadman took the last dog back to the truck for John who, true to his word, waited while Rodney traded off with another vet so they could leave. “You sure you want to do this?” Rodney asked, taking in the circles under John’s eyes.

“Yeah, Rodney. I love Dawson City, and it’s not like I get to be here all the time. Besides, a sit down meal after days of only camp food? Not to mention good company with a nice pair of eyes to share it with…”

“Wait, wait,” Rodney cut him off, both figuratively and literally; moving to stand in front of the other man. “I hope I’m not about to thoroughly embarrass myself, but… are you hitting on me? Is this a…”

“Date?” John supplied with a small smile directed down at his boots, “yeah, kind of.” He looked up at Rodney through is lashes. “That okay?”

“Oh,” Rodney said. “Really?” he asked, unsure. “I mean, yes, that’s okay.”

John threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, really, Rodney.”

*Y*Q*

“So,” Sheppard said as he and Rodney sat down at a table in Klondike Kate’s, which was normally only open in the summer, but made an exception for the Quest crowd every winter. “Where do you live? I take it you’re not from Alaska.”

“No,” Rodney huffed, amused. “I own a clinic in Colorado.”

“So you do get snow,” John gave him a triumphant look.

“Yeah, we get snow,” Rodney sighed. “That doesn’t mean that I like it.”

John chuckled. “I came from the east coast, but I’ve been in Fairbanks for the last five years.”

Rodney studied John across the table. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

“Why?” John smiled. “A lot of reasons.” They paused long enough to place their orders, then John turned back to Rodney. “My family is pretty political, you know, a real upper crust kind of crowd. I was always the odd one out. When I got away for college, I ended up moving to the west coast. Did a lot of surfing, got a degree in applied mathematics, and thought about joining the Air Force. I wanted to fly.”

Rodney didn’t really understand that either, but he nodded. “I take it you didn’t.”

John shook his head. “No. I figured out that as much as I wanted to fly, I needed more than that to be happy.”

“You figured out you liked men?” Rodney supplied, putting the clues together.

“Yeah. Well, I’d known before, but I thought I could just go with women. I tried for a while, even almost got married. In the end though, I realized that I couldn’t deny myself what I really wanted. Anyway,” John grinned, “some friends and I decided to take an Alaska tour that winter. That’s when I was first exposed to dog mushing. I fell in love right away. It’s like a different kind of flying. When you’re out on the trail, it’s just you and your dogs, you know. You depend on each other for everything.”

“I don’t think it’s for me, but you obviously love it,” Rodney observed. “So, you didn’t join the Air Force because you wanted to be happy. Dog mushing makes you happy. What about the other thing? Are you with anyone? Ronon…?”

John laughed. “I wouldn’t have asked you out if I was. No, Rodney, I’m not with anyone. Though I’d like to be,” he held Rodney’s gaze meaningfully. Rodney couldn’t help drifting closer, but the spell was broken when the waiter returned with their meals.

Rodney wasn’t sure what to say after that. John seemed to focus on his meal and Rodney could tell that John’s energy was flagging. They were quite while they ate, but finally he looked up at Rodney. “Hey, sorry I’m not the greatest conversationalist right now.”

“You should rest,” Rodney told him. “It’s okay. I’ll just have to see you in Fairbanks before I go home. We’ll have dinner again after the race is done.”

John gave Rodney a bright smile. “So I get a second date?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Rodney felt his insides melt at that smile.

*Y*Q*

Rodney ended up bypassing the Eagle checkpoint all together; instead being flown to the dog drop at Slaven’s Cabin, between Eagle and Circle City. Most mushers would glide right on through, but a few would have to drop dogs and so there was a need for a vet. Rodney had drawn the short straw and now found himself in a drafty tent near a windswept airstrip, shivering in his sleeping bag.

They were early for mushers, but the next morning still brought a lot of work to be done. The rest of the vet equipment allotted for the dog drop was brought in by plane and Rodney was pressed into labor, helping to get everything set up. The rest of the day was rather dull for Rodney. There were activities such as gathering wood and setting up the small staging area and getting camp lighting set up, but he managed to slip out of most of those jobs. He curled in his tent and read his book for a while, then gave in to the inevitable and went out to set up his camp fire.

When mushers finally starting passing the camp the morning after, Rodney was relieved to simply have something to do; there were drop forms to fill out and examinations to perform so Rodney didn’t feel quite so useless anymore. There was getting to be a fairly long pause in between passing mushers by this point. Everyone was spreading out, pacing themselves as miles of trail were eaten up under their runners.

When John finally came in to the dog drop, Rodney was both happy and sad to see him stop. It meant John was dropping another dog, but also that Rodney would get to see him again. “Hi,” Rodney greeted as he jogged up to where John was anchoring his ice hook around the curve of a tree.

John looked up at Rodney’s voice and in the light of Rodney’s head lamp, he could see that John was tired. “Hey, Rodney,” John’s voice was warm as he greeted him. “I need to drop Wraith, and I need to look at Jumper’s feet again before I make a decision about her.” He sighed and looked over his team absently. “I really don’t want to lose Jumper. She’s my star leader, but if her feet aren’t looking better, then she needs out.”

Rodney nodded. “Okay. Get everyone squared away and I’ll take a look at them. What’s wrong with Wraith?”

“He’s losing weight pretty bad and isn’t keeping a tight line. He doesn’t want to be here and I don’t think he’s feeling very good,” John answered as he pulled a sack of cubed frozen meat snacks from his sled bag. He tossed two to every dog, but Rodney observed that Wraith, the solid black dog in swing, only picked at one of his snacks, ignoring the other one completely. He didn’t even bat an eye when the dog next to him stole it. “I’ve only noticed a change in his appetite over the last fifty miles or so,” John added as he rejoined Rodney at the sled. “No diarrhea or vomiting either.”

“Once you’re done here, bring him over to the vet tent and I’ll check him out,” Rodney directed. He left John to finish what he was doing and went to get set up for the exam.

What little Rodney could do at the drop site didn’t reveal any major problems, though Wraith was mildly dehydrated. John held the dog still while Rodney administered a liter of fluids under the skin. “I’ll clear him for the plane trip to Fairbanks,” Rodney told John when they were finished. “What about Jumper’s feet?”

“The booties and the Pink Ointment have done a great job,” John answered with a relieved smile. “I’ll keep an eye on her between here and Circle, but I’m not going to drop her just yet.”

“I doubt you’ll see me in Circle,” Rodney told John as he handed off Wraith’s lead to a dog drop official. “Since I’m here, I won’t move on until everyone’s past, so then it’ll probably be straight off to Central.”

“As long as I know you’re rooting for me, buddy,” John told Rodney with a soft smile.

The side of Rodney’s mouth quirked up at John’s words. “Of course I am.”

“Good,” John zipped up his sled bag, which seemed to be the signal for the team to stand. They weren’t jerking at the lines to go, but they all waited, some looking back at their master expectantly, ready for the command. John stepped onto the sled runners, pulled his ice hook and stowed it, then turned to look at Rodney. “Think warm thoughts for me,” John told him. Before Rodney could reply, John turned to look at his dogs. “Alright,” he told them. The dogs instantly started forward, John giving a few pumps with one foot to help them get going.

*Y*Q*

Rodney was glad to get to see John in Central; once the mushers left Central on the way to Two Rivers, they had to pass over Eagle Summit. Rodney had decided early on that that was the nastiest part of the trail, no matter what most of the mushers said about it depending on the year and the conditions. American Summit, between Dawson and Eagle, had notoriously poorly maintained trail markers because of the constant winds. Every year, at least one musher got lost on the summit. John obviously hadn’t, though, so Rodney didn’t really see it as a problem.

Rodney could feel a change in the attitude of all the mushers as they reached Central. They were nearly on the home stretch now; it was only a hundred and fifteen miles or so to Two Rivers, and after that only about thirty miles to the finish line in Fairbanks. Between them and the finish line was one large climb. The rest of the trail was fairly smooth.

John came into Central with a smile on his face and all eleven dogs still in the team. He checked in and got the team parked while Rodney watched. John turned and saw Rodney waiting for him and with a smile John pulled his hat and balaclava off, came up to Rodney and kissed him- just a quick, hard press of lips.

Rodney laughed when John pulled away. “What was that for?”

“That was for the best run time we’ve had so far,” John answered with a grin. “And I’m happy to see you.”

Rodney knew his smile had turned a little dopey as he watched John turn to properly bed his dogs down. Rodney wasn’t sure where exactly this thing with John was going, and there was the obvious problem of each of them being rooted in two different states, but that didn’t stop the way he felt about the man. John went through each dog, pulling off their harnesses and clipping them to a long line. He talked and petted each dog before turning and grabbing a bale of straw. He sectioned out the straw, making each dog a comfortable nest, then he went back to the sled and pulled out his camp equipment to make the dogs their supper.

“So,” John glanced up at Rodney as he set up his camp stove, “I have an eight hour layover in Two Rivers. I fully intend to sleep as much as possible, but after that there’s only home, sweet home. The dogs know the trail from Two Rivers to Fairbanks really well, so I’m expecting to make excellent time. Do you think you’ll be in Fairbanks early or do you have to stay in Two Rivers until the last people are out of there?”

Rodney shrugged. “We haven’t decided yet. I can talk to Lorne and see about getting the early ride to Fairbanks. I want to see you come in.”

“Great. We’ll have to celebrate. We didn’t get to finish the race last year,” John reminded, indicating that by ‘we,’ he meant himself and the dogs. “And I owe you a second date.”

John only stayed in Central for a few hours before packing up and getting the dogs harnessed. Rodney found him again just before he pulled out. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah,” John answered, his voice a little muffled as he bent over Jumper; slipping booties on her feet. “The dogs are up for it, so I want to get a few more miles in before we camp. I think it’s better to rest the dogs just before the summit and start the climb with a fresh team.”

“Be careful,” Rodney urged him, his stomach twisting a little as he thought about the trail that lay ahead of John.

John stood, ran a hand affectionately over Jumper’s head, and then walked to where Rodney was standing next to the sled. “I’ll be careful, Rodney, don’t worry,” John assured him. “The dogs watch out for me as much as I look after them.” He pulled his balaclava into place and patted Rodney’s shoulder. “I’ll see you in Two Rivers, buddy.”

*Y*Q*

The leaders had checked in at Two Rivers and were nearly finished with their layover by the time Rodney finally arrived. There was no sign of John yet, so Rodney focused on his work and tried not to think about what may or may not be happening on the trail. He didn’t worry too much until he noticed people checking in who had left Central hours after John.

“Did you see John Sheppard out there?” Rodney asked every one of the mushers as he looked over their dogs.

Most answered with an affirmative; his team looked good, they were just taking it slow and steady. One racer, Teyla, had a little more to say, though. “I passed him before Mile 101,” she told Rodney. “He had a dog in the sled and was stopped. It looked like he was having problems with another dog. I asked if he needed any help, but he told me to keep going.”

Rodney remembered to thank her before she left.

Lorne had agreed to send Rodney on to Fairbanks, but as it came closer to the time for Rodney to catch his ride, John still hadn’t arrived. Rodney dithered and waited as long as he could, but finally gave in and loaded his stuff in the back of the SUV. Just as he settled his bag in the car, he heard the call come through on the vet radio. John had been spotted approaching Two Rivers with nine dogs on the line.

Rodney knew he couldn’t hold up the car anymore, so he grabbed his bag and pulled it back out. “I’ll catch the next ride,” he told the driver, who just nodded and put the car in gear.

Rodney had an hour before the next car left, so he hurriedly dumped his bag with the pile of stuff to go on that car and jogged towards the staging area. Cadman was there, helping John to get everyone out of harness and tied on the dog truck drop chains. “Just another thirty miles,” Rodney heard Cadman tell John as they worked. “You can do it, Shep. The dogs know these trails, it’ll be fine.”

“I know,” John grumbled. “I’ll leave Athos here and just do the last run with eight. Now that she knows where we are, she wants to go again, but I don’t want to risk it.” John pulled off his hat and balaclava, stripped off his parka, gloves, and fleece, leaving him in a dark long sleeve shirt covering his upper half. “It’s warm here,” he commented.

Cadman nodded. “Yeah, weather service is calling for above zero temperatures all day.”

“Shit. We’ll just have to go slow then,” John sighed. Rodney understood. The sled dogs with their thick coats were exercising so much that heat stroke could be a problem in warmer temperatures.

Rodney took a moment to drink in the sight of John’s lean upper body, though he knew better than to want to touch right now; it wasn’t like showers were really an option out on the trail. “I almost missed you,” Rodney finally spoke up, announcing his presence. John looked up and smiled happily at him as Rodney came closer. “I was just about to get in the car headed to Fairbanks when they announced your arrival.”

“I’m glad you waited,” John told him. There was something about his tone that made Rodney’s stomach a little hot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cadman roll her eyes, but Rodney ignored her.

“Told you I’d see you here,” Rodney shrugged. “The next ride to Fairbanks leaves in an hour.”

“That’s about as long as I’d like to say here, but there’s that whole mandatory eight hour layover thing,” John rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and turned to look at his sled. “I’m ready to be done and home.”

“You’ll feel better when you get a little sleep,” Rodney tried to assure him, though he really wasn’t sure what to say.

John nodded absently, still staring at his sled.

“I’ll be waiting in Fairbanks for you,” Rodney added. He watched John for a moment longer before taking a step back. “I should let you do what you need to do. There’ll be time to talk after you’re back home and have had time to rest.”

“Hm?” John finally looked back at Rodney again. “Oh, yeah, probably a good idea,” he gave Rodney a tired half smile, but Rodney could see that John was happy Rodney was there. “You should go find the next group headed out; I don’t want you to miss your ride.”

Rodney once again felt a little awkward about leaving; he felt like he should be doing something else besides waving goodbye and stumbling over his own feet in the snow as he backed away. Still, they hadn’t really moved into kissing territory yet, had they? Rodney didn’t really count the celebratory kiss John had landed on him back in Central. Finally, Rodney settled on just waving again as he walked away. John watched Rodney go for a moment before turning back to his dogs.

Rodney wasn’t really sure why the Quest had an eight hour layover thirty miles away from the finish line, but he wasn’t curious enough about it to ask anyone. He supposed it had been a while since the last mandatory layover, but still. Thirty miles. Rodney figured a lot of the mushers probably felt as John did; at this point in the race everyone just wanted to get to the finish line.

As the snowy landscape surrounding Chena Hot Springs Road slid by, Rodney thought about John and the promised second date. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly they would be doing. Rodney’d never been to Fairbanks before but John had lived there for years. He’d know all the best spots to go for dinner. After that though, what would happen? Rodney knew what he’d like to have happen. He was all for taking John back to Rodney’s hotel room and…

The conversation going on around him in the car derailed his thoughts as he realized they were discussing the option of a food stop before getting to the finish line. He added his agreement and twisted in his seat a little, trying to get more comfortable.

*Y*Q*

The finish line of the Yukon Quest was in downtown Fairbanks on the frozen surface of the Chena River. Rodney peered up the banks as he waited with the other volunteers at the line. On one side of the river was a little white church and a small park that was being used as the staging area for mushers after they arrived. On the other side of the river was downtown Fairbanks, complete with some office buildings, hotels, and the courthouse. It was strange to Rodney that in a state as big as Alaska, Fairbanks was the second largest city, coming in after Anchorage by a wide margin.

While Rodney waited for something to do, he and a few of the other volunteers went and checked in at their hotel. Rodney happily took the opportunity to take a hot shower change clothes before he made his way back down to the river. He had a while before John would arrive, but that certainly didn’t mean that Rodney had nothing to do. They set up a small veterinary tent for emergency situations in the staging area and then Rodney helped get the rest of the equipment repacked in different vehicles. They mostly ran off donations from a couple of the vet clinics around town; after the race all the things would have to be returned to their proper owners.

When the crew broke for dinner, they climbed the river bank and found Lavelle’s Bistro, which was a little too fine dining for Rodney’s taste but at least they didn’t insist on a jacket and a tie. The food was good, and they had someone at the piano; that only served to make Rodney’s fingers itch for it, but he shut down the urge and focused on his food. Dessert was certainly the highlight of his experience there and he hoped that John knew more of the ‘hole in the wall’ type places around town. It never failed, in Rodney’s opinion, that the establishments that looked spartan and dumpy from the outside always served the best food. Pomp and circumstance in a restaurant was usually cover for a mediocre dining experience.

The veterinarians had to check off on each team after they crossed the finish line, so Rodney was able to keep himself from watching the clock too much, though he mentally kept track of the hours until they could expect John to come in. When nine hours had passed since Rodney got to Fairbanks, he tried not to let himself get distracted, but Lorne must have noticed something.

“Need a break, Rodney?” Evan asked as he joined Rodney at his station.

“Hm?” Rodney asked, wide eyed and innocent, “why would I need a break?”

“Sheppard’s been sighted and he’ll be here in about ten minutes,” Lorne told him with a smile. “I’ve noticed how much of an interest you’ve had in him during the race.”

Rodney drew himself up, defensive. “I just want to make sure his team is cared for, same as everyone else.”

Evan shook his head, chuckling. “No, it’s not just that and we both know it. You had dinner with him in Dawson, and you try to be around every time he comes in or leaves a checkpoint. When other vets did the check on his team, he hardly said more than ten words to them. With you, he’s open; talking about everything. I don’t care that you two have something going on, so don’t think that. Just go, welcome him when he gets in, and after he’s done you can come back here and finish up.”

Rodney studied Evan for a moment longer. “Okay,” he gave in, “fine, I’ll do that.”

As he walked away, he heard Evan call, “say thank you, Rodney!”

“Oh, ah, yes,” Rodney turned and waved at Evan distractedly. “Thank you.”

Rodney didn’t like the press of spectators and tourists that crowded behind the orange plastic fencing that lined the chute and finish line, but luckily he had his veterinarian badge clipped to his zipper pull. No one looked twice at him as he took up residence on the other side of the fence from all the fans. Cadman nodded at Rodney when he got close to the line. “Just in time,” she told him. “He’s almost here.” Before Rodney could say anything, Cadman turned to look at him full on. “If you hurt him I’ll shove my boot so far up your ass you can taste it.”

Rodney backed up two steps, eyes wide. “Protective much?” he asked nervously.

Cadman’s glared at him, “listen, you’re not even from around here. John… he gets attached, understand? If you don’t make him understand that you just want a fling before you go home and never see him again, he won’t come to that conclusion on his own. He’s been talking about you almost as much as he’s talking about his dogs and the race. I’m just saying; I know you’re not in this for a serious relationship. John’s certainly not planning on relocating, but I know he’s got this romantic image in his head of you moving up here to practice and the two of you cohabitating. You better tell him tonight that that’s not what you’re looking for, because if you don’t, and you leave and hurt him like that, I _will_ find you.”

Rodney could feel anger tightening his chest a little, but he swallowed it. She was actually right about some of that. He wasn’t planning on staying in Fairbanks. Cadman obviously knew John much better than Rodney did, so he couldn’t really disagree about what John was thinking or feeling. He wanted to tell her to blow off, that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt John, but really he had been assuming that he and John were on the same page already; they’d have their date and maybe some sex, then they’d see each other again at the Quest banquet late in the week. Maybe they’d have sex one more time after that, but Rodney was getting on a plane back to Colorado two days after the banquet.

“I’ll tell him,” Rodney finally said. “I didn’t realize he was thinking about anything else.”

“Yeah, well,” Cadman sighed, “he’s like that. There’s something about you that made him open up faster than I’ve seen him do with anyone else ever- except maybe Ronon. Once you’re in, you’re in, so to speak. John has a knack for finding a spot for everyone in his life, whether you want it or not.”

“I’ll tell him,” Rodney said again. “I’ll tell him before we have dinner, which won’t be tonight because he’s probably exhausted and has a lot to do.” That seemed to placate Cadman for the moment, but Rodney was under no illusion that the subject had been dropped. She would watch the two of them like a hawk as much as she could.

The noise of the crowd swelled around them, and Rodney was grateful for the distraction. He looked up and saw the familiar shape of John’s team coming around a curve in the river. The dogs were trotting steadily and John had one foot on the runner, the other foot pumping, helping the dogs move the sled along the trail. The lead dogs figured out where they were first and as they got closer Rodney saw their ears perk up a little. They didn’t slow down at all, but Rodney could almost see the pause as they took in what was ahead of them. A moment later, the dogs picked up speed and loped toward the finish line.

John’s hat and balaclava were off, most likely stuffed in his sled bag along with his parka, Rodney figured. As the dogs got close, Cadman moved to stand off to the side a little way from the finish line. John saw Rodney as he got close, and his whole face lit up happily. John crossed the finish line waving at Rodney.

“Easy, kids, we’re home,” John told the dogs as he lightly pressed the brake. The dogs obediently slowed and Cadman was able to get a hold of the leader’s tug lines to show them where to go.

“Hey, Rodney,” John greeted as he glided by. Rodney couldn’t help but smile back at him, Cadman’s warnings forgotten for the moment.

“Welcome home,” Rodney chuckled, following the sled and John out of the chute and up the bank to the staging area.

When the sled was parked and hooked on the tail hitch of his dog truck, John spared a moment to give Rodney a quick kiss before he jogged up to his lead dogs and joined Cadman in getting everyone unhooked and settled. Rodney watched John, a little surprised by the kiss. His lips still felt tingly.

“We had a pretty great run from Two Rivers to here,” John was telling Cadman when Rodney finally tuned back into the conversation. “How’d we do in the standings?”

Out of the forty mushers who had signed up for the race, eight had scratched. John ended up in thirteenth place when he crossed the finish line- solidly in the middle of the money earning ranks. “Thirteenth,” Rodney told him before Cadman could.

John glanced up and him, grinning again. “Great!” he chuckled, leaning down to ruffle his hand over one of the dogs’ heads. “I didn’t even want to pay attention to it; after having to scratch last year, we were just in it to finish. Pretty damn good,” John said, directing the last bit at the dog he was petting. “You did great, Jumper.”

Jumper’s tongue lolled out the side of her mouth as she looked happily up at her master and it was Rodney’s turn to chuckle. John was pretty cute with his dogs and it was obvious that they adored him in return. “Anything I can do?”

“Sheppard,” a gruff voice called from behind Rodney before John could answer his question. Rodney saw John smile and wave and he turned to see who was coming. A giant man with long dreadlocks and sunglasses gave Rodney a quick look before passing him to take John’s hand in an enthusiastic shake. “Welcome home, buddy.”

“Thanks,” John chuckled, shaking his hand out a little after the man let go. “Ronon, this is Rodney McKay, one of the race veterinarians. Rodney, Ronon Dex.”

Ronon turned and nodded at Rodney before turning back to John. “Everyone you sent home is doing great, so don’t worry about them.” He leaned closer to John, but Rodney could still hear him when he continued speaking. “Looks like you found a little more out on the trail than just the finish line.”

John laughed and shoved Ronon back a little. “So what if maybe I did?”

“John,” Rodney cut in, suddenly aware that Cadman was giving him another hard look, “anything I can do?”

“Oh, not really, unless you want to help load the truck,” John answered. “I’m just going to snack them and then we’re headed home.”

Before Rodney could answer, Cadman was there, shoving a pile of harnesses into Rodney’s hands. “Here, get those in the compartment in back. Ronon and I will load the sled.”

“What’s your room number?” John asked after the truck was loaded and all the dogs where in their boxes. “I’m not going to be up for anything until maybe tomorrow, so I’ll give you a call. Maybe,” John blushed a little and ducked his head. “Maybe tomorrow night you’d like to come out to my place for dinner.”

Going out to John’s house set off all sorts of Cadman related warning bells in Rodney’s head, but he found himself nodding anyway. “Room 321,” he answered, pointing across the river at his hotel.

“Great,” John kissed Rodney again but moved away before Rodney could react. “I’ll call you. Right now, I gotta go so we can get the dogs settled in. Then I’m gonna pass the fuck out.”

“Okay,” Rodney replied faintly. “I’ll, ah, talk to you tomorrow.”

John nodded and headed around the front of the truck. As he opened the passenger door and got in, Rodney saw Cadman glare at him again from the driver’s seat. Rodney shrugged and waved at her, unsure of what else he could do. He’d have to tell John tomorrow- but not over the phone like a coward. He’d tell him in person; face up to the potential mess he’d made.

*Y*Q*

Rodney was happy to finally have a morning where he didn’t get called out of bed early. He ordered room service at a quarter to eleven and sat in bed with coffee and his laptop. Bless hotels and their Wi-Fi; Rodney could finally check his email. New messages in his email took up two pages, but Rodney deleted half of it without reading. Radek had written a couple times, giving Rodney updates on some of their longer term cases and the clinic in general. Katie-The-Office-Manager was responsible for nearly twenty emails with questions and rambling general updates. Rodney thought again about maybe letting her go, but then he’d have to train someone new.

It wouldn’t be his problem anymore if he sold the practice to Radek.

Rodney’s fingers paused on the keyboard. Where the hell had that thought come from? Why would he sell the clinic to move to _Fairbanks_ of all places? He barely knew John at all; a decision like that would be foolish. Rodney sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was all Cadman’s fault for putting the thought in his head. He couldn’t seriously be thinking about it. Rodney picked up his coffee mug and peered into it; he needed more caffeine to jolt some sense into himself.

Six hours later, Rodney had showered, ordered more food, and had drawn up two spreadsheets about the logistics of moving to Fairbanks. He couldn’t seem to leave the thought alone. He justified to himself that it was all theoretical; just in the interest in figuring out how much it would cost. Radek had expressed interest before in buying the business if Rodney ever wanted to sell, so he wouldn’t have to worry about that.

Rodney was busy working himself up with the pros and cons and the ‘what the hell am I thinking about this for?’ thoughts when the phone rang. “What?” he snapped into it.

“Bad time?” John’s voice came through the receiver and something in Rodney’s gut inexplicably relaxed.

“No,” Rodney answered, “actually probably the best time.”

“Okay,” John said slowly, but when Rodney didn’t offer an explanation, he continued. “Still up for dinner? I can be there in forty minutes to get you. Just us, no Cadman or Ronon,” he added.

Rodney floundered for a minute before answering. “Ah, yes, that sounds fine. I’m deathly allergic-”

“To citrus, I remember,” John chuckled. “Dinner’s going to be pretty simple, but I think you’ll appreciate it.”

Rodney stared at himself in the bathroom mirror after they got off the phone. John was on his way, and then Rodney had to tell him that he was going back to Colorado next week and that would be that. Rodney turned away from the mirror and shoved down the curl of disappointment. “Get it together, McKay,” Rodney grumbled at himself. “You’re being pathetic.”

Rodney waited in the lobby, though he didn’t see John arrive because he was looking for the dog truck. Warm arms slid around his waist and a pointy chin rested on Rodney’s shoulder, making him jump. “What are you looking for?” John asked next to Rodney’s ear.

“You,” Rodney replied and he wanted to tense, to pull away, but his body had apparently taken on a mind of its own. Rodney found himself relaxing back into John. He was freshly showered and his aftershave left a slow burn low in Rodney’s belly. “Didn’t see you pull in.”

“I wasn’t being sneaky,” John chuckled, “though you wouldn’t recognize my car.”

When he let Rodney go, he turned to look at John. His hair wasn’t any tamer, Rodney noticed, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was styled that way or natural. John was clean shaven again, which Rodney thought was a definite improvement. He still had circles under his eyes, but they weren’t nearly as dark as they had been on the race. His street clothes… Rodney swallowed. Tight jeans and ratted leather work boots was a good look for John. The dark T-shirt under a light black jacket only served to accentuate John’s body. John caught him looking and Rodney shrugged, blushing. “You look good,” Rodney said quietly.

“So do you,” John replied. It was the first time they’d really seen each other out of their winter gear, so Rodney thought he was justified to look a little longer than strictly necessary.

Rodney glanced down at his tan cargos and long sleeved blue shirt, trying to figure out exactly what John was seeing. Giving up, he looked back up at John. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah,” John nodded and turned towards the exit. Rodney followed him out into the cold air and across the parking lot to where a battered gray Subaru sat waiting. As Rodney got near he could hear the ticking of the engine as it cooled. “It’s unlocked,” John told him as he opened the driver’s side door and slid in behind the wheel.

“You don’t lock your car?” Rodney asked incredulously as he shut the door behind him.

John chuckled and started the engine. “Not really necessary in Fairbanks, especially when you have a beater like this.”

As they left the city behind them, Rodney thought about telling John that he wasn’t staying in Fairbanks. He wasn’t sure how to work it into the conversation though, and John seemed so happy that Rodney didn’t want to ruin it. The radio was on low, and Rodney got distracted watching John’s fingers tap out the beat on the steering wheel. He had long fingers; Rodney couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like pressed against… Rodney tore his eyes away and turned to look out the window. This was ridiculous. How was he supposed to tell John when all he wanted to do was get horizontal with him? Telling John that Rodney was going back to Colorado next week would certainly put a dampener on the night. As soon as the thought was there, Rodney wanted to punch himself. He was not that much of a dick, was he?

As the highway rounded the Fox General Store, Rodney turned to John again. “Where are we going?”

“I live up on Old Murphy Dome Road,” John explained. “It’s a bit of a drive, but there’s a lot of room and plenty of trails. It’s a good community of people up there. It’s very doggy and hippie.”

“Hippie,” Rodney repeated with a raised eyebrow, “like, pot smokers?”

John nodded happily and steered the car around a steep curve in the hill. “Yeah, lots of that, but also a big artsy kind of crowd. Ronon’s wife Melina is a big local artist, and Laura’s husband Damien plays music. You’ll probably meet him and his kids- Allie’s thirteen and Galen’s five. The kids are great. Allie’s in junior sprint mushing and Galen… well, he kinda thinks he’s a dog,” John chuckled.

Rodney wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was obvious to him now that John really was writing Rodney into his life. He had to say something. “John…” Rodney trailed off, fighting with himself.

John glanced at him questioningly, but turned to look at the road again. It was slick and there were a lot of semis coming down the hill and past them. “What is it, Rodney?”

Rodney wasn’t sure how to say it, but he knew he had to. “You… you know I’m going back home next week, right?”

John was silent and Rodney risked looking at him. He was concentrating on the road extra hard, his brow furrowed. At the top of the hill, John hit the blinker and pulled across the road. Rodney caught the flash of a sign stating Old Murphy Dome Road. John found a wide spot in the road and pulled off to the side. He killed the engine, and sat, staring out the windshield. “Colorado,” he finally said quietly.

Rodney felt like shit. “Yeah,” he sighed. “My clinic is there, John, along with my cat, my house… my life.”

John sat quietly for another moment, then nodded to himself. He started the car again and pulled a U-turn in the road, taking them back out onto the highway. “John?” Rodney asked as they turned left, continuing farther up the road and away from town.

“If one week is all I get,” John replied quietly, “then I’m going to make the most of it. We’ll have dinner at Hill Top, and I can cook for you in the morning.”

“In the morning?” Rodney echoed. “I didn’t bring any overnight things.”

“We’ll go into town and get them tomorrow,” John answered, but then he glanced over at Rodney worriedly. “If you’re okay with staying with me, that is. I can take you home tonight if you want.”

“No,” Rodney hurried to reply, “no, it’s fine.” Rodney wasn’t sure if sex was even on the table anymore, and John had clammed up, but surely the offer to stay over had to be a good sign. Rodney wished he knew what John was thinking as they drove on up another hill in silence. His face, which had been happy and expressive, had completely shut down, leaving only a blank mask in its place.

“I’m sorry,” Rodney tried, speaking quietly. He really wasn’t sure what he could say.

“No, it’s good you told me,” John sighed. “I… I’ve been told I kind of get carried away.” At the top of the next hill, John pulled off the road again and parked in front of a metal building with a sign proclaiming Hill Top Truck Stop and Café. John killed the engine and got out of the car without another word.

Rodney followed him into the building and the smell of cooking burgers and fries hit his nose. There were a few grizzled truckers at the tables, along with a man and his daughter sitting at the bar near the cash register. John found them a corner booth and sat with his back to the wall, facing the door. Rodney sat on the other side and risked another look at John, but he was busy studying the menu.

Rodney felt cold, like John’s happiness had been keeping him warm, and only now that it was gone did Rodney notice it. He shook his head at the stupid thought and picked up his own menu. There was a soup of the day and then an assortment of burgers with strange names. A small list of sandwiches and a tiny kids menu finished off the page.

“Hi, John,” Rodney looked up to find a woman with brown hair and lipstick a shade too dark for her standing by their table. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. How was the race? Ronon said you ran again this year.”

John smiled at her, but Rodney could tell it was fake; he’d seen John’s real smile directed at himself and Cadman and Ronon enough to tell the difference. “Hey, Jennifer. The race went well, we finished, which is a step up.”

The woman laughed and glanced at Rodney. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Rodney,” John replied, his eyes flicking to Rodney for a moment before looking back up at Jennifer. “He’s from out of town, just up to be a race veterinarian. He’s only here for a week, so I thought I’d show him some places off the beaten path.”

Rodney almost flinched when John said he was only there for a week. Rodney remembered to smile and nod at Jennifer, even as he felt his stomach twist.

“Good idea,” Jennifer smiled at John again and Rodney couldn’t help the flare of resentment when he realized she was flirting with him. “What can I get you two?”

“I’m extremely allergic to citrus,” Rodney said promptly. “Don’t put it in my water or on any of my food or you’ll have a medical emergency on your hands that I doubt you’re equipped to deal with.”

Jennifer looked at Rodney again and nodded, “okay, no citrus, got it. But what can I get you to eat?”

After they ordered, Rodney looked at John again and found him playing with his spoon and the salt shaker. He wasn’t really sure what to say; everything Rodney came up with sounded awkward, so he let the silence be. He lasted about thirty seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore. “If you ever come down to visit, I can show you some of my favorite places to eat in Boulder.”

John nodded, but didn’t look up from trying to get the salt balanced on the spoon. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Boulder,” he finally said. “Wonder how much has changed.”

Rodney jumped on the topic and set about describing the area of the city he lived in and what there was to see and do. Through it all, John only nodded every once in a while and kept his attention on the table. When the food arrived, Rodney looked at it suspiciously until John offered to test it for citrus. It seemed silly but Rodney didn’t even trust a burger and fries anymore. When it was all deemed clean, Rodney fell onto it, grateful for the distraction.

John seemed to perk up a little as they drove home, though Rodney could still tell that things had changed. The sled dogs all sang to them as John parked the car and they got out. “Hey, kids,” John called to them, smiling. The dogs quieted down after that and Rodney heard their chains rattle. He could almost see them in the darkness; shadows loping in slow circles or climbing back into their dog houses.

“I fed them before I went into town,” John told Rodney as he led him up the steps of the house, “so we won’t need to do anything with them tonight.”

The house had thick walls, which helped to retain heat, but it was still chilly inside. John moved directly over to a woodstove and opened the door. Rodney could see embers glowing inside, and John reached into the box next to the stove and pulled out kindling and some larger pieces of split logs. “It won’t take long to get the house heated up,” John assured Rodney. “If you want you can get the lights going. They’re all propane. There’s a lighter on the shelf by the door; just turn the little knobs on the side of the lights and use the lighter to get them started.”

Rodney stared at John for a moment, surprised by the lack of electricity, but did as he was told. Soon, warm, buttery light filled the house as Rodney started each lamp with a small _thop_ of ignition. By the time he was finished, John had the fire going again and Rodney could feel the room heating up.

While John finished whatever he was doing with the stove, Rodney took the opportunity to look around. They were in the living room; a two seat couch faced away from the stove and looked across the living room and out through three large bay windows. A comfortable looking armchair sat off to one side, under one of the propane lights and in front of a large bookshelf. On the other side of the room was a table with two chairs. The floors were hardwood in the living room, but behind the woodstove they gave way to linoleum. The only delineation between kitchen and living room was the change in flooring. The woodstove sat in the center of the room, up on a small platform of bricks.

Rodney looked up, following the chimney, and found that there was a half second floor above them. A small landing to the left of the door Rodney and John had come through led to the stairs going up and a doorway into a dark back room. “So do all your appliances run off propane?” Rodney asked.

“Yeah,” John answered, finally getting up and shutting the door of the stove. “Lights, refrigerator and stove, all gas powered.”

“Running water?” Rodney asked hopefully, “toilet?”

John chuckled, “composting toilet inside, and an outhouse. I have a well and a generator to run the water pump if I need to, but usually it’s baths around here. Without a constant heat source I don’t keep dedicated plumbing.”

That made sense to Rodney, though he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to live like that. “I saw power lines on the road,” he pointed out.

John shrugged and went into the kitchen. He got two beers out of the refrigerator and popped the tops off of both bottles. “I didn’t want to wire the house. I like it like this.” He handed Rodney one of the beers and gestured him into the living room. Rodney sat on the couch and John joined him a moment later. “It’s simpler this way,” John continued. “If I want television or internet I can go down to Laura and Damien’s place. Here, it’s just me and the dogs.”

“I don’t know if I could live without internet and a way to charge my computer,” Rodney replied and tried not to notice how John’s face hardened slightly at yet another reminder Rodney would not be living in this house. He took a drink from his beer and checked the label; Alaskan Winter Ale. “This is pretty good.”

“Most of the stuff put out by the Alaskan brewing company is good,” John agreed.

Rodney nodded and took another sip, looking out the bay windows into the darkness. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to find John watching him, though his eyes seemed to be fixed on Rodney’s throat. “John?” Rodney asked quietly.

John swallowed and looked up, meeting Rodney’s gaze. “You only being in town for a week doesn’t mean we can’t…”

“No,” Rodney hurried to answer as heat curled in his chest and belly, “no, it doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”

“Good,” John replied, leaning in and capturing Rodney’s mouth in a warm kiss. Unlike the few other times John had kissed him, this one was slow and exploratory. Rodney slid one hand up into John’s hair and returned the kiss; hoping like hell he didn’t drop his beer in the process. John’s mouth on his felt amazing and when John’s tongue slid against Rodney’s lower lip, requesting entrance, Rodney wasn’t about to deny him.

Rodney’s lips felt a little swollen when John finally pulled away. He took his and Rodney’s beers and reached behind the couch to set them both on top of what Rodney thought might be another woodstove in the kitchen. He didn’t bother to examine it too closely though, because the next moment John was back. He pulled Rodney closer and kissed him again. Rodney fell into it with a small moan.

“This couch,” Rodney started his complaint when they next came up for air and Rodney found himself leaning back with John on top of him, “is too small.”

“I know,” John agreed. He kissed along Rodney’s jaw and took a moment to nibble softly on the sensitive skin below Rodney’s ear. Rodney sighed happily and turned his head to give John a better angle. “We should take this upstairs,” John whispered against Rodney’s skin.

“Yeah,” Rodney breathed. Before either of them could move, Rodney pulled John down for another deep kiss. He could take the discomfort of the couch for another few minutes if it meant he didn’t have to let John go yet. Rodney slipped his hand back into John’s hair, noting absently that it was soft; not a hint of product anywhere. John’s hair was naturally alarming, but that only added to his charm, as far as Rodney was concerned.

John’s eyes were dilated when he finally pulled back again. “God, Rodney, let’s go,” he panted, sliding off the couch and standing.

Rodney looked up at him as he tried to get his brain to work. Right, bed. Upstairs. Rodney sat up and John pulled him to his feet and around to the landing and the stairs. The stairs creaked a little as Rodney and John hurried up, but Rodney only vaguely noticed the noise. John’s ass, clad in the tight jeans that Rodney had been drooling over earlier, was right in front of him. They were barely at the top of the stairs and making a left into John’s bedroom before Rodney’s hands were at the button of John’s jeans.

John’s fingers tangled with Rodney’s as they both worked to get John out of his pants, but finally the button popped undone and Rodney got the zipper lowered. He kissed John again, batted his hands away, and knelt, slowly pulling John’s jeans down as he went. John pulled off his shirt as he stepped out of his pants, and Rodney looked up at him, taking in the long lean lines of John’s body. Right in front of Rodney was John’s boxers; the remaining barrier to his erection.

Rodney leaned forward and put his hands on John’s hips before sucking his dick through the material of the boxers. “Oh, fuck,” John cursed above him, and Rodney looked up to find John watching him, his expression completely wrecked. “Rodney…”

Encouraged, Rodney let himself play a little. He kind of had a thing for underwear and erections, so he took his time licking and sucking at the material covering John’s cock. Above him, John groaned and had to put a hand on Rodney’s shoulder for balance. Rodney leaned closer and took John’s boxer covered cock into his mouth and sucked hard, his tongue tracing the head. “ _Rodney,_ ” John groaned. Rodney gripped John’s hips when one of his knees threatened to give out and Rodney pulled back with a small chuckle. John made a small noise of protest, and Rodney got to his feet and kissed him.

“I don’t want you to fall down,” Rodney gave John an amused look. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

John gave him a dark glare, but his lips were curled in a small smile. He did as he was told; laying back on the bed propped up on his elbows so that he could watch Rodney. Rodney took the opportunity to get out of his own clothes before crawling on top of John. He leaned down and kissed John, then mouthed gently along John’s jaw and down the side of his neck. John arched into Rodney’s touch with a soft moan. “Can I take off my boxers yet?” John asked in a gravelly voice.

Rodney leaned up on his hands and looked down the length of John’s body. “No, not yet,” Rodney chuckled. He canted his hips forward and rubbed the head of his cock against John’s. The wet spot on John’s boxers made by Rodney’s mouth and John’s precome was cool against the head of Rodney’s dick.

Below him, John groaned and pressed up against him. “Rodney, please,” he panted.

Finally relenting, Rodney slithered down John’s body, pausing a moment to suck on an inviting nipple. He slid his fingers into John’s boxers and slowly pulled them down as John lifted his hips to help. John’s cock was hard and dark when it popped free of the underwear; Rodney couldn’t help but take it into his mouth. John hissed and Rodney saw him clutch at the sheets out of the corner of his eye. “Rodney,” John grunted.

Rodney was suddenly unsure of how John wanted to do this. Did he want Rodney to fuck him or bottom? Should Rodney suck John off first or…

Hands closed around Rodney’s arms and hauled him up John’s body until their mouths were pressed together again. The next thing Rodney knew, he was the one on his back and John was leaning over him with a predatory glint in his eyes. “Oh, god,” Rodney whimpered as John slowly worked his way down Rodney’s body, licking and sucking and nipping across Rodney’s chest and stomach. John used his knees to spread Rodney’s legs so he could settle between them and Rodney felt the slick finger at the same time as John swallowed Rodney’s dick whole. “Fuck,” Rodney choked out, body tightening as pleasure washed over him.

John took his time working first one, then a second and a third finger into Rodney as he continued to suck and lick him. By the time John brushed his fingers over Rodney’s prostate, he was right on the edge. “ _John_ , I swear to god if you don’t stop that and fuck me _right now_ …” Rodney trailed off with a protesting groan as John pulled away.

“Hey, I’m just doing what I’m told,” John chuckled. Rodney glared at him, but his expression became anticipatory when he saw the condom in John’s hand.

Rodney sat up and snatched the packet from John’s slick fingers and ripped it open. “Let me do that or you’ll get distracted again,” Rodney told him as he pulled the condom out.

“ _I’ll_ get distracted?” John’s voice trailed off near the end and he moaned softly as Rodney rolled the condom around John’s dick. Rodney found the open tube of lube and used some to slick John up before laying back and giving John a hungry look.

“Come on, John,” Rodney pulled him down and kissed him. “Fuck me,” he whispered against John’s lips.

“Yeah,” John agreed eagerly, leaning back again and pulling Rodney’s legs up onto his shoulders. Rodney tried to watch John’s face as he lined himself up, but then Rodney’s eyes fluttered closed as the broad head of John’s cock slowly pressed into him.

Rodney focused on relaxing; it had been a while since he’d done this. John moaned quietly and paused when he was half way in, giving Rodney a chance to adjust. Rodney felt so perfectly full and he rocked his hips a little, trying to encourage John to keep going. “Please,” he whispered, opening his eyes to look up at John.

John had been watching him, his expression open, and Rodney was hit by the wave of possessive tenderness on John’s face. “Rodney,” John whispered, and then he was pressing closer until he bottomed out inside Rodney. Rodney grunted and reached up, letting his hands stroke over John’s arms. Rodney was nowhere near flexible enough to kiss from this position, no matter how much he wanted to.

Something must have shown on his face, because John smiled softly at him and started moving; just a slow rocking at first, but as Rodney loosened up a little, John began moving faster. The first time he pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in, he tagged Rodney’s prostate dead on. Rodney would never admit it later, but he may have shouted as pleasure rocked through him. Just like that, he was close again and he reached between them to take himself in hand.

That seemed to be the signal John was waiting for. He moved with purpose, hitting Rodney’s sweet spot with every few thrusts. Rodney couldn’t help but make noise; nonsense words mixed in with the moans as he stroked himself in time with John’s movements. “Close,” he finally gasped, then, “John… fuck, _John,_ ” and Rodney exploded, shattering into a million pieces. He felt like he would float away but for John; the connection between them the only thing keeping Rodney from losing himself completely.

John kept going through Rodney’s orgasm, but he paused when Rodney relaxed into the bed. “Can I keep going?” he asked breathlessly. “I know some people get too sensitive.”

“Hmm?” Rodney hummed and blinked up at John. “Don’t stop.”

John let Rodney’s legs slip down around his waist and he pressed in again as he leaned forward, managing to catch Rodney’s mouth in a kiss. “Won’t ever stop,” John whispered against Rodney’s lips. He pulled away again and his hips started moving. Rodney, still pleasure drunk, watched John’s face as he got closer and closer to his own release.

“Come, John,” Rodney encouraged, “want you to come in me.”

John groaned and he blinked down at Rodney, locking gazes as he gave one last particularly hard thrust before jerking as he came. Rodney unwrapped his legs from John’s waist as John slowly collapsed on top of Rodney, snuggling against his chest. “Oh, god, Rodney,” John whispered as he caught his breath.

“Yeah,” it was Rodney’s turn to agree.

They stayed like that for a moment before John slowly got up to deal with the condom. He came back a moment later with a towel and cleaned off Rodney’s stomach. Tossing the towel away, John pulled the blankets up and over them both before snuggling into Rodney’s side. Rodney was half asleep by that point, but he hummed contentedly and turned, wrapping his arms around John. He opened his eyes enough to see John give him a sleepy smile before Rodney gave in and let himself drift away.

*Y*Q*

Rodney woke up the next morning to find that John was already up. He could hear sled dogs outside yelping for their breakfast. One by one, the yard quieted, telling Rodney that John was doing his dog chores. Rodney relaxed back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. What they’d done last night… that was definitely _not_ just playing around, not just fucking. It didn’t change that Rodney was still leaving in six days, but it did make things more complicated.

Rodney groaned and covered his eyes. He hated thinking of it as a mistake, because it had been probably the best sex Rodney had ever had. John got Rodney in a way no one else ever had. Still, Rodney had a plane ticket home and a business to run when he got there. He had to keep this thing between him and John casual.

When Rodney stumped down the stairs in his boxers and T-shirt, he found a note on the kitchen counter. _There’s three pots of hot water on the stove if you want a bath. The tub’s in the back room. Also: coffee on the cook stove. Thought we’d get breakfast at Sourdough Sam’s?_

Rodney turned to look at the three huge black pots on the kitchen woodstove. How the hell was he supposed to get them into the back room? Next to the stove sat two buckets. Another note was taped to one of them. _Use me!_

Rodney huffed in amusement and carefully poured half of one of the pots of water into each bucket. He carried them over the landing and down into the back part of the house. To his left was another woodstove and what was obviously a gear room. To his right was an open doorway that revealed a large tub, a medicine cabinet, a full length mirror, and shelves with all sorts of human and animal medications. A note was taped to the tub.

 _There’s a drain stopper, be sure to put it in before you pour. The drain is gravity fed and works well!_

Rodney certainly hoped the drain worked well. He definitely wasn’t planning on bailing out the tub by hand. He found the drain stopper and then poured both buckets of water into the tub. Two more trips into the kitchen left Rodney with a very inviting looking bath. There was no door to separate the bathroom from the gear up area, but Rodney couldn’t make himself care. He quickly shucked his clothes and stepped into the bath.

“Oh, yeah,” Rodney groaned happily as he relaxed with a sigh. Behind him, the back door opened and Rodney sank father into the water to avoid the cold air.

“Oh, hey, you’re up,” John’s voice greeted him as the door closed. “I see you found the notes.”

“Yeah, I did,” Rodney rolled his eyes and looked over at John. “All done out there?”

John nodded and walked out of Rodney’s sight. He could hear John pulling off his coat and boots. “Everyone looks good and the team’s happy to be home. After you’re done we can head into town and get your stuff from the hotel.” Rodney heard John walk up the stairs and across the landing into the main part of the house.

Rodney sighed and rested his head against the back of the tub. John was thinking Rodney was going to live out here for the whole week. Rodney couldn’t really find it in himself to argue with that, though he _knew_ it would make leaving even more problematic. As the water started to cool, Rodney finally washed himself and got out. As he toweled dry, he watched the water drain quickly out of the tub.

As they drove into downtown after breakfast, Rodney decided that it would be no use fighting this thing. He’d pack up his stuff and take John up on the offer to stay with him. Even the lack of internet wasn’t enough of a deterrent, which Rodney knew should be a huge warning bell for himself, but he couldn’t talk himself into staying in town.

When Rodney came back to the car with his suitcase, laptop case, and backpack, John jumped out to help him get everything loaded. John had a pleased smile on his face that made Rodney’s chest feel fluttery. “All set?” John asked. When Rodney nodded, John shut the car’s hatchback.

*Y*Q*

“Just so you know,” John started as they pulled onto Old Murphy Dome Road, “tonight’s the weekly dinner and a movie night thing. Laura and Damien and the kids are going to be over, and unless they have other plans, Ronon and Melina will come too. Oh, and Nate and Jason.”

Rodney remembered John mentioning most of the people he’d named. “What movie?”

“Donno,” John shrugged. “It’s Nate’s week to pick, so it could be anything.”

“And Nate and Jason are…” Rodney prompted.

John chuckled and pointed at a driveway a quarter mile before John’s. “Nate Stackhouse and Jason Markham live just down there. They’re recreational mushers; only have about ten dogs. They both used to be Air Force, but neither of them work now. Apparently they’re loaded due to hazard back pay. They won’t talk about it, but they were both stationed at some top secret military base in what was pretty hostile territory. At least, that’s what I’m gathering. Jason was injured in the line of duty. I think it was a plane crash of some sort. After they retired, they moved up here.”

As John turned the Subaru into his driveway, a black and white thing shot out of the woods and barked, chasing the car down the drive. John sighed and rolled his eyes. “Damien tries to keep his dogs contained, but Goober and Sputnik both know how to push open the doors at my place.”

“Goober and Sputnik?” Rodney asked incredulously.

John laughed. “I don’t really know why D named them that.” He rolled down his window and leaned his head out. “Sputnik, NO!”

Rodney watched as the dog stopped and cocked its head to the side, recognizing John’s voice. John took the opportunity to park the car alongside a grey Toyota Four-Runner. Rodney raised an eyebrow at the bumper sticker on the back of the Toyota. _**Visualize Whirled Peas!**_ it proclaimed.

“Come on, let’s get your stuff inside and see what kind of havoc Damien’s done in the kitchen,” John squeezed Rodney’s hand and got out of the car. The border collie was all wiggles as it greeted John and he paused to squat down and pet it. Another collie barked and came around the side of the house, making a B-line for John.

While John fended off the dogs, Rodney went around to the back of the car and pulled his luggage out. John took the suitcase from him a moment later and Rodney followed him down towards the back door of the house. The dogs sniffed Rodney’s legs for a moment before running ahead and waiting by the door, eager to go inside.

“UNCLE JOHN!”

Rodney winced at the high pitched shout and looked around John to see a young boy come barreling down the steps and leaping into John’s outstretched arms. “Hey, buddy,” John laughed, catching the kid.

“Uncle John, Uncle Wes’s here,” the boy told John excitedly as he carried the kid and Rodney’s suitcase up onto the landing.

John put the kid down and waved at whoever was in the living room. “We’ll be there in a minute, guys. Gotta get Rodney’s stuff upstairs.”

Rodney glanced into the living room as John went upstairs. Laura sat in the armchair and a man that Rodney could only describe at first glance as an Irish Marlboro Man sat at the table. He wore dark jeans and cowboy boots, his short sleeved shirt had the arms rolled up, and he had on a cowboy hat. The man waved at Rodney as Rodney started up the stairs after John.

“Who is that?” Rodney asked curiously as he set his bags down in John’s room.

“That’s Wes Ferreh,” John grinned. “He and Damien go way back- they grew up together. He lives in Ireland, but just to warn you, whenever Wes is in town, he and D are pretty much joined at the hip. Laura’s fine with it. I can’t really explain the relationship between the three of them, but Damien and Wes pretty much have eyes only for each other when they’re together.”

Rodney didn’t really get it, but he knew what John was trying to say. Don’t talk about it, it’s fine and somehow Damien and Laura had an agreement. “Okay,” Rodney said slowly.

“Oi, Shep! Yeh better come down ‘ere! No makin’ out when yeh got company,” an Australian accent called up the stairs.

Rodney couldn’t help his blush and huff of annoyance, but John just laughed. “We’re coming, D.” He gestured to Rodney and headed back downstairs.

Damien was a blonde guy. It was easy to tell that both the kids that were now sitting on the couch were his, though the older girl, Allie, Rodney remembered, didn’t look very much like Laura. Rodney made a mental note to ask John about that later. Damien and Laura had brought fold out camping chairs with them, so after John handed Rodney a beer, he made his way over to one of the chairs in front of the bay windows and sat down.

Laura gave him a Look, but Rodney just shrugged at her. He knew what she was thinking, having seen them come in with all of Rodney’s stuff, but he couldn’t explain it to her here. “I did tell him,” he settled for telling her quietly. Laura just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Haven’t met you before,” the Marlboro Man- Wes- said, turning to look at Rodney with a smile. “I’m Wes.”

“Dr. Rodney McKay,” Rodney introduced himself. “John said you’re visiting.”

“Yeah, I try to get over here for a few weeks a couple times a year,” Wes said, casting a look into the kitchen at Damien. “Can’t seem to leave Ireland entirely.”

“Yer da wouldn’t let yeh,” Damien chuckled, not turning from whatever he was doing at the stove. John hovered at Damien’s shoulder. He was a little taller than Damien, Rodney noted.

“Rodney, this is Alison and Galen,” Laura put in, indicating the kids.

“Allie,” the girl answered shortly, not looking up from the DS she was playing. Galen smiled shyly at Rodney.

“Are you Uncle John’s boyfriend?” he asked curiously. “Can I call you Uncle Rodney?”

“Uh,” Rodney felt his eyes widen and John turned, meeting his gaze from across the room. Rodney had no idea what to say.

“No, Galen,” Laura answered, “Rodney’s just visiting.”

“But Uncle Wes is just visiting and I call him Uncle,” Galen replied.

“I know, but Rodney isn’t Uncle John’s boyfriend. He’s just a friend.” Rodney saw John’s expression shut down at Laura’s words. Rodney was quickly learning that that was how John looked when he was hurt. He blanked out so it wouldn’t show.

Galen looked down, kicking his feet as he thought. “So I just call him Rodney?”

“That’s right,” Laura agreed.

Rodney swallowed down the urge to argue. He wasn’t planning on staying, he knew that. There could be nothing serious between himself and John. He dropped his gaze and took a drink from his beer to avoid saying anything.

Luckily, everyone was saved from potential awkwardness. The border collies, both of whom had been sprawled out on the floor, leaped to their feet and charged toward the back of the house, barking. “Hello hello!” a voice called from the back room.

“Hey, dogs,” a different voice greeted the collies. A few moments later, two dark haired men came over the landing and into the kitchen. The taller of the two carried a box of beer in one hand and a bottle of what looked to be vodka in the other. He grinned and waved at Wes as he made his way into the living room.

“I brought the party favors,” the man said cheerfully. He put the drinks down on the table and went back to the other man’s side, hovering a little as he made his way down the two steps from the landing.

The shorter man carried a plastic bag in one hand and a cane in the other. Something wasn’t quite right about his left leg but Rodney made an effort not to be obvious as he tried to figure out what it was. The pant leg hiked up a little as the man came down the last step and Rodney realized this must be Jason Markham. The lower half of his leg was prosthetic.

“A new face,” the man smiled and nodded at Rodney. “I’m Jason, this is Nate. You must be Rodney. John told us all about you when he got home.”

Nate took the bag from Jason and nearly bounded into the kitchen. “I brought Velvet Goldmine for tonight,” he grinned as he pulled a DVD case out of the bag.

Damien laughed. “Perfect. We’ll set it up after dinner when Galen’s asleep.”

Jason made his way into the living room and sat down in one of the camping chairs with a sigh. “So you’re from Colorado?” he asked Rodney.

“Yes, I have a clinic in Boulder,” Rodney replied.

“We spent some time in Colorado Springs,” Jason shrugged. “It’s a nice area. I always liked Colorado. Hey, Wes, good to see you again.”

Wes shook Jason’s hand. “Yeah, I missed you last time.”

“We went to upstate New York to visit Jess and the kids. It had been a while since we got to spend any time with my sister,” Jason replied. He watched Nate rummage through a cabinet and come up with a stack of cups.

“Drink, anyone? Hobbes?” Nate asked brightly.

Jason chuckled. “Sure, I’ll have one. Just don’t mix it too strong.” Rodney couldn’t help but wonder where Jason had gotten the nickname ‘Hobbes.’

“Uncle Nate and Uncle Jason have nicknames,” Galen had somehow materialized next to Rodney’s chair. “They’re Tigger an’ Hobbes. For Christmas they gave me A Very Merry Pooh Year and the box set of all the Calvin and Hobbes books.”

“That’s, ah, great,” Rodney floundered. He always had found it hard to talk to kids. Even his niece Madison was almost too much for him.

“Shut up, Galen,” Allie grumbled from the couch, “that’s none of his business.”

“Aw, c’mon, Allie,” Damien said in an amused voice. “’e’s jus’ bein’ social.”

Conversations continued for a few more minutes before Damien announced that dinner was ready. Rodney found himself looking down at a moose steak burrito shortly after the announcement. “I told him about the citrus allergy,” John assured Rodney with a soft smile.

After everyone had made their burritos, Damien came around with a pot of vegetables. “Green beans,” he announced, offering Rodney the serving spoon. “Laura an’ Melina grew ‘em last summer.” Rodney took some and Damien turned to where Galen was sitting at the table. His son happily pushed his plate closer to Damien and when the green beans were on his plate, he ate them before he ever touched his sliced up burrito.

Nate served up another round of drinks with dinner. Rodney thought Nate had already seemed a little lit when he and Jason had arrived and was getting the impression that Nate maybe had a bit of a drinking problem. No one even blinked wrong as Nate started in on his third drink long before anyone else, so Rodney certainly wasn’t going to say anything. These people knew Nate much better than he did.

John excused himself after dinner to go and feed the dogs. As soon as the door closed behind him, Laura turned to fix Rodney with another hard look. “Okay, spill,” she ordered. “You said you told him, but you just moved all your stuff over here.”

Rodney looked around the room self-consciously, but all the other adults were watching him as well, interested in his answer. In their own ways, they were showing Rodney that they were just as protective of John as Laura was. Rodney swallowed nervously and fidgeted with his empty beer bottle. “I told him yesterday that I’m going home next week. When he suggested this morning that I stay here for the week… I don’t know, I couldn’t turn him down. I’m still leaving. He knows that and he knows that anything between us can’t be serious.”

“Moving in for a week is pretty serious,” Wes said thoughtfully. “Of course, you don’t have to live in the same place for that.” He glanced at Damien and Rodney followed his look to find Damien and Laura both nodding in agreement.

Rodney sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Well, I don’t really know what to say. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”

“That’ll be difficult,” Jason told Rodney quietly. “The way John was talking about you after the race, he was already pretty taken. And watching him tonight…” he trailed off and shrugged.

“’Course we all know that gettin’ hurt is a part a life,” Damien added. “Yeh’ve been honest with ‘im, which is really all we can ask for. Shep’s gonna have ta make ‘is own choices, Laura.”

“I know that,” Laura grumbled.

The conversation paused when Jason levered himself out of his chair. He pushed it toward the crank window next to Wes’ spot at the table. Wes quickly moved himself and his chair out of the way to let Jason have the spot. Jason cranked open the window a little and settled back down in his chair with a sigh. A moment later, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit up, blowing smoke out the window.

Rodney took the mixed drink Nate offered him. “I’ll talk to him about it again later,” he promised Laura just before John came back inside.

*Y*Q*

Rodney hadn’t noticed that there was a second bed upstairs until Damien took a sleepy Galen up. Rodney had never even looked to the right when he went up the stairs before, but the rest of the second floor was open and a second queen size bed lay on the floor at the far end.

“Oi, heads up,” Damien called over the edge of the second floor. Rodney looked up in time to see something drop from the second floor. It was a giant bean bag. Nate dragged it out of the way just before another one dropped down, followed quickly by a third before Damien came trotting down the stairs.

John got up from his camp chair and bent in front of the television stand. Opening a small cabinet door, he pulled a car battery out and set about hooking leads to it. “You run the TV off a car battery?” Rodney asked curiously.

“Yeah,” John answered, sparing a moment to smile at Rodney over his shoulder. “When it’s my turn to host this weekly gathering. I don’t watch much TV.”

Damien and Nate got the bean bags set up around the room while John was busy. After another round of drinks had been passed out, John joined Rodney on the couch. Nate helped Jason down into one of the bean bags and flopped down next to him. Laura and Allie were playing chess at the table as the movie started. Rodney had to admit that he was much more interested in watching John’s friends than he was in the movie, which he’d seen before.

Damien and Wes settled themselves in one of the other bean bags and curled into each other. Rodney glanced at Laura but she didn’t even blink strangely. It didn’t seem strange to Allie either. Rodney was going to have to ask John more about that later. Damien laughed at something Wes had said and snuggled closer, which Rodney hadn’t thought was possible.

Nate and Jason’s bean bag was close to the window. Rodney noted that Jason almost always had a cigarette in his hand as the night continued. Nate got up periodically to make another drink, but eventually he gave up and took the vodka and cranberry juice over and set it on the floor next to his seat.

Half way through the movie, Laura joined them on the couch, slinging an arm around John’s shoulders. “It’s great to have everyone here again,” she said quietly.

John smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I missed this when we were on the trail.”

Rodney watched as Allie walked over to where Wes and Damien were sitting. Wes reached up and pulled her down between them. Allie smiled brilliantly and laughed as she settled down. Movement made Rodney look over and John and Laura. Laura was smiling at him. “When Allie was little, Damien and Wes were traveling together. She grew up with Wes as a second father.”

That answered a few of Rodney’s questions, but didn’t really explain how Laura was okay with her husband still being so close with Wes. Rodney decided to let it go for now. He’d think about it later. John put his arm around Rodney’s shoulders and Rodney curled into his side; returning his focus to the movie.

When the movie flashed credits, people began levering themselves off of bean bags and couches. Laura went upstairs to get Galen while Damien and Wes collected plates and put them in the kitchen. “Sorry ta run on yeh, Shep,” Damien said as he clapped John on the shoulder. “Early day tomorrow fer th’ kids.”

Rodney was only mildly surprised when John hugged them all, even Wes. When Laura came back down the stairs with a drowsing Galen on her shoulder, John hugged both of them too. “See you guys later.” Damien and Wes both turned to Rodney and he found himself shaking their hands and saying good night as the strange family unit waved back at Jason and Nate and made their way out of the house. Both border collies jumped up at the last minute and followed their masters out into the snow.

John had an interesting group of friends, Rodney thought as he watched Nate- who was clearly completely smashed by that point- clamber to his feet and shuffle into the kitchen to help John with the dishes. Jason watched Nate with a look that said clearly just how in love they still were. Rodney suddenly realized he wasn’t sure how Nate and Jason were planning on getting home. Nate was too gone to drive, and Rodney wasn’t sure if Jason could, what with his leg.

Unsure how to ask, Rodney sat back down on the couch and turned sideways so that he could watch both the men in the kitchen and Jason in the living room at the same time. Jason snubbed out his most recent cigarette and shook his pack, clearly considering another. He decided against it for the moment and tossed the pack up onto the table. “John, you and Rodney planning anything tonight or do you mind if we just stay here?” Jason asked.

John shrugged, his arms half submerged in soapy dish water. Nate swayed next to him, ready to rinse and set the dishes in the drain rack. “You guys are always welcome to crash here.”

After the dishes were finished, John and Rodney carried the bean bags back upstairs and stowed them in a sunken in closet area opposite the guest bed. Nate helped Jason up the stairs after them and good nights were said before Rodney followed John into his bedroom. Rodney was happy to see that there was a sheet on a rod above John’s door. John pulled it shut behind them and Rodney was grateful for even the perceived privacy it gave. Rodney wasn’t one to be self conscious, really, but he knew Nate and Jason were just as protective of John as everyone else. Rodney didn’t really feel like having his every move as he and John stripped down to boxers and climbed into the bed being supervised.

John pulled Rodney in close and kissed him softly. “So, what did you think?” John asked quietly as he pulled the blanket over them. “They weren’t too much for you, were they?”

“No,” Rodney chuckled and leaned forward for another kiss. “Not too much. It was kinda fun to meet them.” He decided that he wasn’t going to mention anything about the dressing down he’d received while John had been out taking care of the dogs. He didn’t fault them for it; Rodney knew he had to get a handle on what was going on between himself and John.

John hummed sleepily and shifted, wrapping his arm around Rodney’s waist as he got comfortable. In the other room, Rodney could hear Jason and Nate talking quietly. Absently, Rodney wondered if Nate would have a hangover in the morning and if they had enough coffee. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

*Y*Q*

To Rodney, the next few days felt like the fastest of his whole trip. John showed him around Fairbanks, took him out double-sledding with John and the ‘B’ sled dog team. They visited Laura’s place and Nate and Jason’s house. On the fourth day of Rodney stay with John, they drove out to Chena Hot Springs and spent the most relaxing day of Rodney’s life in the outdoor rock pool.

Somewhere along the way, Galen started calling Rodney ‘Uncle Rodney’ without anyone noticing. Rodney had also turned into Galen’s favorite person; every time Rodney saw him, Galen wanted to be near him and play games with him and talk to him the whole time. Rodney was surprised by how much he _didn’t mind_ the kid hanging around. More than that, as Rodney got to know him, it was easier to interact with him. Even Allie started opening up to Rodney more.

Two nights before Rodney was supposed to leave, he sat on the windowsill in their bedroom- the only place he could get a strong mobile signal- and called Radek. “I think I’m in trouble,” Rodney said when a sleepy Czech grumble answered the phone. John was out doing something with the dogs. Rodney wasn’t sure when John would be back inside so he wanted to make his call quick. “I kinda moved in with someone here for the week and now I think I’ve been adopted into his crazy unrelated family. I don’t even know if John realizes I leave in two days.”

“You woke me for this?” Radek eventually spoke. Even from across the country, Rodney could _hear_ the eye roll. “This is John Sheppard yes? The pretty man with alarming hair that you spoke of in your email. Rodney, you are either staying there and selling clinic to me or you are coming home. Either way, you gain something, either way you lose something. I do not know what you want from me, but all I can tell you is this. Down here, you were content. Comfortable. Since you have been up there, you have inquired to the clinic twice. You have answered emails three times. We have hardly been on your mind since you met the Man With Alarming Hair. What does this tell you?”

“That I’ve gone completely insane, apparently,” Rodney sighed, resting his head back against the cool glass. “I should know better than to call you while you’re sleeping.”

“Ano, you should. Call if you do not get on your plane.” Radek hung up before Rodney could say anything else.

Downstairs, Rodney heard the door open. “Hey, Rodney,” John called, “get your coat on and come outside! The Lights are out and they’re going crazy.”

Rodney glanced behind him out the windows as he got off the sill. The sky was streaked with the dancing green ribbons of the Northern Lights. Quickly, he went downstairs, shoved his feet in his boots, threw his coat on, and followed a grinning John outside. Rodney paused on the porch and looked up, watching the Lights move. They shot all over the place, twining and merging together before suddenly zipping apart to crash into other streams. Watching it made Rodney feel deaf, like the Lights should make noise as they reeled through the sky, but the only sounds were Rodney’s own breathing and the distant clink of dog chains.

“Come on,” John said quietly. “We can get a better view at Ronon’s.” John led the way along a path through the woods and a couple minutes later they emerged in Ronon’s yard. A couple dogs barked until they smelled who it was, then they were quiet again.

Even in the night, the Lights were bright enough that Rodney could see two silhouettes sitting on the roof of the house. John showed Rodney to a ladder and followed him up. On the slanted roof, Rodney found a narrow platform that traced the path from the ladder to a flat platform half way across the roof. Ronon and Melina sat on a blanket as they watched the Light show.

“Ronon,” John greeted as he and Rodney settled on the blanket. Ronon grunted an acknowledgement at them. Rodney zipped up his coat a little tighter and looked around. Being on the roof gave them a perfect view of the sky. A few determined stars shone through the Lights, but overall the sky was inky black against the bright greens.

A new ribbon flashed across the sky, its upper edges tinged pink and red. Rodney knew just enough about the Aurora to know that red was a fairly uncommon color. It quickly faded back to green, but Rodney didn’t mind. The whorls of Lights reminded Rodney of the painting Starry Night. It was like fire following trails of gasoline or the fuse on a stick of dynamite.

John pulled Rodney closer as they watched Lights that were the color of burning copper flit this way and that above them. There was no math, no predictability in it, but Rodney found that comforting. He rested his head on John’s shoulder.

*Y*Q*

Rodney’s alarm went off at five AM the morning he was supposed to leave. He turned it off and stared at the dark ceiling. John snuffled in his sleep and pressed his face into Rodney’s shoulder as he flung a sleep heavy arm across Rodney’s chest. Rodney turned enough to rest his cheek on the top of John’s head. The spiky black hair tickled Rodney’s nose, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to leave. John’s scent and John’s bed and this _life_ felt right to Rodney in a way nothing else had.

Rodney shifted, knowing he had to get up. His ass twinged a little; pleasantly sore from the last night. John’s arm tightened around Rodney, not letting him go. “Noo,” John mumbled sleepily, “n’t yet.”

“’Kay,” Rodney replied, relaxing into the bed and John again. He could stay for a few more minutes before they absolutely had to get up.

When Rodney next opened his eyes, the clock said six AM. “Shit,” Rodney grumbled. He flung the blanket off and slid out of John’s arms before the sleepy man could catch him. “We have to get up. We only have an hour before we should leave here, John.”

John opened his eyes at that and stretched. Rodney could hear John’s back pop from across the room. “You don’t have to go, Rodney,” John said quietly.

Rodney turned away from his suitcase and looked back at John. He sat in the blankets, knees curled up to his chest, and looked directly back at Rodney. “Everything’s there, John, my life-”

“Could be here,” John cut him off. He shook his head and ran a hand through his sleep mussed hair. “I won’t bring it up again, Rodney. I just… you’re always welcome here, okay? Promise you’ll come visit?”

Even as Rodney nodded, he wondered if he and John were going to become like Damien and Wes. “Of course I will. Now you better get up and do whatever it is you do with the dogs in the morning.”

He heard the rustle as John got out of bed, and then warm arms were around him. John kissed Rodney’s neck before pulling on a pair of sweats and a shirt and leaving the bedroom. “I’m putting water on the stove for coffee,” John called from the kitchen, “don’t forget about it when you come down.”

It hurt because of how normal it had become over the past week. Rodney groaned and sat on the edge of the bed. He just sat there for a minute, trying to get the motivation to get dressed. Finally he got up, pulled boxers and jeans and a shirt on, and carried his luggage down the stairs.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Rodney didn’t know what to say and John listened to the radio. When they pulled into the short term parking lot, Rodney turned to look at John. “I’m sorry.”

John shook his head. “You’re right, you have a life down there. I can’t deny you that.” He smiled, but Rodney could tell it was forced. “Just… well, you’ll come to visit.” He leaned across the middle console and pulled Rodney into a deep kiss. “I’ll help you get your things in.”

Rodney had his back pack and his laptop bag and John carried the suitcase as they walked across the lot and into the airport. John paused inside the doors and set the suitcase down on its roller wheels. “Have a good flight, Rodney. Call me when you get there.”

Rodney’s stomach twisted painfully as he pulled John into a hug. “I will. It was… it’s been… fuck.” Rodney backed up just enough to kiss John again. “I’ll call you,” he said again when the kiss broke.

John nodded, gave him one last smile, and turned away. Rodney watched him until the doors slid shut behind him. Turning, Rodney grabbed the handle of his suitcase and got into the line to check in. As the line slowly moved forward, Rodney fidgeted, resisting the urge to check and make sure he had everything. The feeling that he’d forgotten something nagged him, but he knew that for what it was. Finally, it was Rodney’s turn. He didn’t move, staring at the check in desk. The guy behind the counter gestured him forward, but Rodney couldn’t do it.

“Damn,” Rodney whispered. He grabbed his suitcase and got out of line, making a B-line for the exit. Maybe John hadn’t left yet.

Outside the airport, Rodney saw John’s Subaru just pulling out of the parking spot. Rodney all but flew across the road and down slick steps into the lot. His suitcase banged down the steps behind him, but Rodney didn’t care about anything but catching John before he drove away. “John!” he shouted as he got close.

John must have seen him, because the car stopped in the middle of the aisle. The driver’s side door opened and John got out as Rodney caught up. “Rodney?” John asked.

“One, we’re getting electricity, two, we’re getting internet,” Rodney listed, letting his backpack and suitcase thunk onto the frozen asphalt. “Three, your dogs better be okay with my cat, when he gets up here.”

John stared at Rodney for a moment until his eyes lit up as he got it. “You’re staying?”

Rodney nodded, his throat suddenly thick as he swallowed. “Yeah,” he croaked out. “I’m staying.”

Rodney’s arms were suddenly full of a very happy John Sheppard. Somehow they managed to turn enough for John to press Rodney against the side of the car. Rodney didn’t even feel the coldness of the metal through the scorching kiss that John landed on him. Rodney groaned softly as he opened his mouth to John’s onslaught.

It took someone’s car horn to get them to finally break apart. Glancing back, they saw a small line of cars backed up behind them. Rodney blushed, but John just laughed and reached for Rodney’s bags. “Come on, Rodney,” he said as he threw the bags in the back seat. “Let’s go home. You can call Radek on the way and have him get your stuff together.”

“Yeah,” Rodney agreed as he went around the car and got into the passenger’s seat. As they drove out of the Fairbanks airport, Rodney felt peaceful in a way he hadn’t ever felt before. This was his home, here with John. Cold and snow be damned, as long as John was with him, Rodney knew he’d be warm.

FIN

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Artwork for Happy Trails by Merrov (padfootthegrim)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364375) by [danceswithgary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary)




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